


Mind Your Language

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Languages and Linguistics, Runes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 00:10:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: No one in graduate school ever warned you that reading ancient scrolls aloud was something you should actually avoid…





	Mind Your Language

Your eyes are watering. 

It’s three in the morning, and you’ve been up studying all night, trying to get ready for the mission. You’ve never been on a  _ mission _ before, and even though you’re trying to tell yourself that it’ll be fine… you’re a little terrified.

Still, it’ll be worth it if you can actually use your linguistics degree to do something crazy and life-changing, like working for some sort of covert government agency. They’re paying you a pretty jaw-dropping consultation fee, too, so you couldn’t really have turned it down, anyway. Standard scholastic research, tragically enough, just doesn’t pay the bills.

The trouble is, the text they’ve given you to examine isn’t in any sort of script you’re familiar with - and even though the agents who briefed you were tight-lipped about the source of the scroll, you’ve got a very strong suspicion that it isn’t terrestrial in origin. The runes remind you vaguely of Elder Futhark, but they’re more complex; some of them almost remind you of pictographs. 

Beyond figuring out what the scroll says, all that you know is that you’re going to be escorted to what the agents referred to only as “Site Six,” where you’re presumably going to be expected to translate something, or maybe help them find whatever it is that the scroll is describing.

If only you could figure out exactly  _ what _ the scroll was describing. 

“They give me one day to reconstruct an  _ entire language,” _ you complain to yourself, pressing your fingertips to your temples. “I should’ve asked for more money.”

You take a swig of now-lukewarm coffee and stretch, then turn back to the scroll, determined to uncover its secrets. “I’ve got this,” you reassure yourself. “Okay, so, _ek_ _fōrija—_ wait, I think that might be an _ō,_ right?” Rifling through papers, you consult your notes on what you’re tentatively calling the Site Six Runes. “Definitely an _ō,_ so that would make it… Let’s see. _Ek_ _fōrijō wurmiz-tung fram gardaz… thurisaz?”_

Definitely some convoluted form related to proto-Germanic, you’re thinking, but—

“Can I help you, girl?” 

Shrieking, you spin around to face the intruder, knocking over your chair and landing in an embarrassing heap on the floor in the process. “Take whatever you want!” you cry, cowering under your desk, deciding then and there that you aren’t about to die to protect some kind of classified government project.

The stranger in your bedroom huffs, like he’s  _ irritated _ that he’s even there in the first place.  _ “You  _ called  _ me,  _ mortal,” he snaps, tucking a lock of his pretty dark hair behind his ear. 

_ All _ of him is pretty, you realize then. The sculpted cheekbones, the piercing blue-green eyes… eyes that are currently glaring at you. You whimper in fear as he crouches down in front of your desk, his head slightly cocked. “You are a very  _ bad _ sorceress, aren’t you?”

For some reason, the timbre of his voice makes you feel a little flushed. “I’m a historical linguist,” you sputter, “not a—”

_ “‘I summon the Serpent-Tongue from the realm of giants.’” _ His lips part, his smile sharp. “That is me, and here I stand.”

_ I have to be sleeping right now,  _ you tell yourself.  _ This has to be some kind of crazy exhaustion-fueled dream. _ “I… do you have any other names?”

At that, the intruder looks downright affronted. “I am Loki,” he says,  _ “obviously, _ and I am going to be  _ very _ cross if you lured me away from my breakfast for nothing.”

Hands shaking, you point to the scattered papers, to the scroll that’s on the floor only a few inches from his boots. “I was trying to read that. Sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to, um, to call you here. You can go.”

“A very bad little sorceress indeed,” he mutters, snatching up the scroll. He scans over it for a moment, then laughs. “ _ Wurmiz-torg.  _ You misread the runes.” 

You blink, still trying to process the fact that some kind of handsome deity has appeared in your bedroom in the middle of the night. “What?”

Loki spreads the scroll out on the floor, flipping it around so that you can see it. “These bound runes are  _ ‘or, _ ’ not  _ ‘un.’  _ The meaning would be altered.”

“Altered to….?”

_ “‘I lead to the dragon-hoard from the realm of giants.’” _ He taps the offending runes. “A lost treasure-hoard from Jotunheim on Midgard? How very  _ exciting.” _

“I—”

“I haven’t been on a treasure-hunt in some time,” he continues, his grin deepening. “When do we start?”


End file.
